Chin Boy
by Rachel Striker
Summary: A series of drabbles about Clara's love for calling the Doctor "Chin Contains hints of Whouffle - and possible torrents of it
1. Chin Boy

The Doctor didn't usually find himself at a loss for words. His ability to constantly prattle on about absolutely nothing was one of his most enigmatic qualities (in his opinion). But this girl - this Clara Oswald - she always left him at a loss for words. And he wasn't sure yet, but he thought he was starting to like it.

He opened the TARDIS doors with a quick push and bounded inside, waving one last time to Vastra, Jenny, Strax, and Ada (though he knew she couldn't see him) before shutting the doors and leaping to the console. That was another one of the aforementioned enigmatic qualities: his insistence on doing everything in (literal) leaps and bounds.

Clara, whom he hadn't seen because she was leaning against the entrance to the corridors of the TARDIS, smiled at his quirkiness as he danced his way around the console, throwing switches and flipping levers. He pulled one last lever, securing the TARDIS in the time vortex, and kissed the console.

"Are these the sort of shenanigans you get up to when I'm not around, Doctor?" Clara asked, grinning when he spun around in surprise.

"You-er-I was just-blowing dust away! That's it. The TARDIS has always been dusty. I meant to dust it, but you know, it's so difficult to find dusting time. And Yorkshire is a rather dusty town, are you sure you didn't track any dust in when..." The Doctor trailed off slowly when Clara raised her eyebrow.

She laughed at his expression. "Oh, don't look so put out, it makes your chin look even bigger than it is," she said, trying to stifle her laughter.

"My chin? There's nothing wrong with my chin!" the Doctor retorted, scratching the chin in question.

"Ooh, careful there, dear, someone could lose an eye." The statement just made the Doctor frown more, which in turn both made his chin bigger and sent Clara into a fit of giggles. Coming up the stairs to where the Doctor was, Clara tapped his chin.

"I suppose I'll have to get used to it, Chin Boy."

"Chin Boy? Oi!"

But Clara was already gone down the hall, her laughter echoing off the corridors.


	2. Chin Chin Cher-ee

One day when Clara was wandering around the TARDIS looking for something to do, she heard music coming from inside one of the rooms. She opened the door and found the Doctor sprawled in front of what looked like a giant movie screen, furiously writing notes as _Mary Poppins_ played on the screen.

"Doctor?" Clara said timidly, not wanting to startle him. He jumped and paused the film with a remote, and then stood up to greet her.

"Hullo! I was just doing some research." Clara glanced at the papers strewn around the room.

"Research on Mary Poppins?" she asked, wondering if he was joking.

The Doctor nodded. "I'd heard from a friend of mine – his name's Jack, you'd love to meet him – that she was an important and influential Time Lord, and that – strangely enough – her companions were mostly young children. What's more," he continued, oblivious to Clara's efforts to hold in her laughter, "she seemed to prefer staying with her companions instead of taking them travelling with her. Have you ever heard of someone doing that?"

"Course I have. She's a governess!" At the Doctor's dumfounded expression, Clara couldn't stifle her laughs any more.

"You mean like you?" Clara calmed a little as she considered.

"Well, not exactly like me, but close enough." The Doctor frowned, and his chin jutted out.

"Well, you're about halfway through, Chin Boy, so we might as well finish the movie. It's a good one."

The Doctor decided not to argue, and after watching the film had to agree that it was rather good. Even if Clara had insisted on singing "Chim Chim Cher-ee" to him with her own lyrics, the most notable change being the replacement of every "chim" with "chin".

* * *

**A/N: So as you can see I've decided to make this a series of drabbles. I can't say that updates will be regular (or if I'll even update at all, really) because school will invariably get in the way of my writing (as well as any lack of inspiration that may decide to come by). I'll leave the status up as 'completed' nonetheless.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	3. You'll Always Be My Chin Boy

**WARNING: The following chapter contains spoilers for "The Name of the Doctor", so unless you're one of those people that actually want to read spoilers (I know you're out there. I can SEE you O.O) I would advise you watch the episode first. For the rest of you who have seen the episode, enjoy!**

* * *

The Doctor burst through the TARDIS doors with Clara in his arms and sprinted down the hallway to her room, not bothering to navigate the TARDIS away from Trenzalore. He knew the TARDIS would get them into the time vortex herself - she wanted out of this place even more than he did. The Doctor lay Clara down on her bed and sonicked her with his screwdriver, checking anxiously for any injuries. He found numerous burns and set to work fixing them, running to the medic room and returning with his arms overflowing with bandages and salves.

As the Doctor worked, Clara woke. She watched him as he worked over her, and smiled slowly when he noticed she was awake.

"I heard her, you know. River, when she said your name to open the tomb. She was there the whole time. And even before that, I remembered. I read it in that book in the library."

The Doctor sighed and sat down on the edge of Clara's bed. "I know River was there. And I know you could hear her. But she left, she faded. And I don't know if I'll ever see her again."

Clara sat up and rubbed his arm comfortingly. "You'll be fine. I know it's hard to get over people you lose - God knows you know it too. If you ever want to talk or anything, I'm here."

The Doctor smiled, and though the smile was thin and made him look years older, it was sincere.

"Why didn't you tell me that you could see her, though?" asked Clara. "Then I wouldn't have had to hide the fact that I was talking to her."

The Doctor smiled and shook his head, standing up and reaching for another bandage.

"Spoilers."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Fine, then. But I'll get it out of you someday. And just so you know, it doesn't really matter that I know your name. You'll always be my Chin Boy."

"I'm sure I will be," the Doctor murmured as he turned around, hiding a smile by picking up a tube of burn cream.

When the Doctor finally finished tending to Clara's wounds, she had fallen asleep. He kissed her softly on the forehead before heading out of the room. Before he closed the door, he looked at Clara, sleeping peacefully, and stroked his chin. "Chin Boy, that's me," he whispered, smiling again as he shut the door.

* * *

**I know, I know, these updates are starting to look more and more regular. Now that Series 7 is finished, I don't know if I'll have any inspiration to continue, but I'll try. Writing these has become too much fun to stop.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing/favoriting/following!**


	4. Good Night, Chin Boy

**NOTE: There are no spoilers in this chapter. I'll always warn you if there are, so if I don't mention any there won't be any.**

* * *

"NO!"

The Doctor jolted awake, scrambling to leap up from the floor of the console room. He had fallen asleep while tinkering around under the TARDIS console again.

"You can't! I won't let you!"

Not even pausing to grab his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor sprinted down the hall toward Clara's room, where the shouts were coming from.

He paused outside her door and knocked, waiting for an answer. The only one he received was another agonized scream, "Give her back!" Seeing that as invitation enough, the Doctor opened the door to Clara's room.

He found her cocooned in a blanket, and for one bizarre second he thought it was eating her as she struggled against it. Then he realized that she was having a nightmare – _stupid_ – and rushed to her, helping her free her arms from the blanket and saying soothing nonsense words as he stroked her hair, trying to comfort her.

Clara was somehow still asleep, but her muscles were taut with fear of horrors that the Doctor couldn't see. After unsuccessfully trying to get her to relax, the Doctor finally climbed into the bed with her, sitting up with her head laying on his shoulder.

He held her gently as he rocked her back and forth, and slowly she began to really fall asleep. When he was absolutely sure that Clara wouldn't wake up, the Doctor slipped out from under her and began to draw the covers up around her.

Just as he was about to turn around to leave, Clara's eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep.

"Good night, Chin Boy," she said quietly, and closed her eyes, her breathing deep and even.

"Good night, Clara," said the Doctor, and he kissed her on the temple and left the room.

* * *

**A/N: I'm slightly insomniatic, so that's where I got the inspiration for this chapter from. I don't have proper full-scale insomnia, so I am able to sleep fairly more easily than people who have it worse than me, but it can take up to two hours of lying in bed for me to get to sleep. (And being a student and not getting to bed until midnight or after doesn't help much, either.) Anyway, this chapter was less about being unable to sleep and more about the inability to sleep comfortably. (And who wouldn't want Matt Smith to comfort them in the middle of the night? ;)) Also, the only reason these chapters are even written is because of said insomnia, though I don't put them up online until the next day.**

**For those of you wondering what exactly Clara was dreaming about, maybe I'll reveal it in the next chapter. (Or maybe I won't and I'll just stick it in the author's note because I forgot to incorporate it into the story. Either way, you'll find out after the next update.)**

**Wow, this story now has four chapters. One more and that'll be the most chapters I've written for a fanfic ever.**

**As always, thanks for reading!**


	5. Show Me the Stars, Chin Boy

The Doctor was lying on his back next to the console, staring up at the TARDIS's ceiling, when Clara walked in. Her hair was damp from a shower and there were dark flecks on her lavender jumper where droplets of water had seeped in.

Clara cocked her head and surveyed the scene. "Doctor, what are you doing?"

He craned his neck to see her properly. "You had a nightmare last night. What were you dreaming about?"

Clara sighed (both at his blunt change of subject and the memory of the nightmare) and sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"My mum died when I was sixteen. It was a car accident. I wasn't there when it happened. My dad tried to joke about it because she saved him from a car accident when they first met. He used to say she'd be disappointed in him for not paying her back for what she did all those years ago, but - well. It wasn't very funny. I've been having this dream since we left Akhaten - I'm back in the temple and the parasite is talking to me and he has my mother, and she says that the only thing that can save her is the leaf, the most important leaf in existence, but I can't give it to her because it's gone, and I reach out for her but then she's gone too and I can't get her back. Not - not ever."

The Doctor looked up in surprise. Clara had maintained an even tone throughout the retelling of her nightmare, but in that last sentence there had been a queer quiver in her voice. There were no tears on her cheeks, but her eyes were strangely bright.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It's my fault. I took you there."

Clara shook her head. "It was my choice. And it was the right choice. I just - sometimes I forget how much I miss her."

The Doctor did not look like he really thought he was forgiven, so Clara stretched out on the floor of the console with her head right next to his and her feet pointing in the opposite direction.

"So why are you lying here?" she asked, looking up at the green-grey ceiling with him.

"I've done so many terrible things, Clara. I've destroyed people, civilizations, worlds. You were there for a lot of that, even if I didn't see you."

Clara nodded, and the Doctor continued.

"It's easy to forget how much I regret doing those things when I look at you. If there's just one person like you or like anyone else that's travelled with me, it's all worth it. You remind me of what I'm fighting for, of why the universe is worth it. But sometimes that's not enough. Sometimes it catches up, you see, and then I've got to run faster or it'll get its hold on me. And sometimes the only thing that keeps me from going mad is seeing the stars."

Clara turned her face to the side, mere inches from the Doctor's.

"Well then, Chin Boy, you'll just have to show me the stars."

The Doctor turned his head to face her, and seemed surprised at how close she was to him. He smiled softly, the same broken smile she had seen in his most vulnerable moments, but now it was different. Less broken, more...bent.

"All right, Clara. I'll show you the stars."

And he was standing up, pulling her up with him as he began his dance around the TARDIS console.

* * *

**A/N: Wow. That was a LOT more hurt/comfort than I thought it was going to be. Sorry! But this chapter is longer than usual and I'll put up something a bit more fluffy next time, I promise.**

**I know it never actually says how Clara's mom died, but as there was no leadup to any terminal illness in the flashback portion of "The Rings of Akhaten" I'm going to assume it was a sudden and tragic death. And the only thing that can make a sudden and tragic death worse than it already is? Situational irony. You're welcome. (Sorry, though. I just really love sadness. It's a bit morbid, really.)**

**As always, thanks for reading!**


	6. Whatever You Say, Chin Boy

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Clara rubbed the edge of the TARDIS console with trepidation.

The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed almost manic in his lack of anxiety. "Of course I am! I know you, and I know the TARDIS even better."

"But Doctor, the last time I tried to fly the TARDIS it crashed and we almost died!"

"Well, that's always the best way for things to turn out, isn't it?"

"Er, no, it isn't."

"So you agree!" The Doctor didn't seem to be listening to her at all. "The first thing we do is flip that green switch over there."

"Doctor, there are four green switches."

"Ah." The Doctor looked puzzled for a moment, as if he had never noticed before. "Then I suppose you'll just have to flip them one by one until something happens."

"Until _what_ happens?"

But the Doctor was off on the other side of the console, pulling a lever with a triangular handle.

"Okay..." Clara looked at the green switches and reached for the first one. _Here goes nothing.__  
_  
She flipped the switch and tensed, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. She flipped the second one. Still nothing. After flipping the third switch, Clara started to become bemused.

"Doctor," she called out as she reached for the fourth switch, "is anything supposed to be-"

She flipped the fourth switch, and the TARDIS shut down completely.

The green light of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver shone through the blackness, and Clara felt her way around the console toward it. When she reached the Doctor, she took his free hand in hers.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" she whispered.

"I think this one's my fault, actually," the Doctor said, checking the reading on his screwdriver. Suddenly it flashed red and made a high-pitched whirring noise.

"Ah. It's entirely my fault."

"Doctor, what's going on?" The Doctor turned to face her in the dim light of the screwdriver.

"I left the proton fusers on. That last switch turned on the electron initializers, which, well, caused a tiny explosion."

"Where?"

"In the library. Nothing to worry about," he said, catching the look in her widened eyes, "but we'll have to wait for a bit until the TARDIS can fix herself."

"She seems to be rather good at that," Clara murmured. "How long will we have to wait, exactly?"

"Hm...an hour, give or take?"

Clara and the Doctor sat at the edge of the TARDIS console, dangling their legs under the railing. The TARDIS's lights were still off, and the Doctor, as always, was in a talkative mood.

After listening to him try to explain what was wrong with the TARDIS by prattling on about neutron flows for twenty minutes, Clara finally reached the end of her patience.

"I have a book in my room that I took from the library, Doctor. Should I go get it?"

"You can't. Your room isn't there right now. It doesn't technically exist anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"The TARDIS console is the only tangible area - the only room that really exists. All the others are constantly shifting and changing based on what or where she wants them to be. If she wants them to stay where they are, they will. That's why your room is always in the same place. It wouldn't be if she decided to change it - but I suppose that would be a bit rude."

Clara decided to keep to herself the fact that she'd had to wander around for half an hour looking for her room the second time she'd spent a night on the TARDIS (she'd found it, finally, behind a false bookshelf in the library). That had been when the TARDIS hadn't known who or what she was, and she was sure the machine hadn't meant anything by it. Thinking back on the days when she and the TARDIS hadn't gotten along brought a small smile to Clara's face, and she looked into the distance, not noticing that the Doctor had stopped talking or that he was looking at her with a tender expression and a matching smile.

Five minutes later, Clara and the Doctor had changed positions. The Doctor now sat with his back against the railing, facing Clara, who sat with her back against the TARDIS console.

"How are the kids? I haven't seen them since we took them to Hedgewick's."

"Artie can't wait to go somewhere with us again. He had the time of his life. Angie, on the other hand, is more concerned about whether you're really my boyfriend or not." Clara rolled her eyes. "Just like a teenager."

The Doctor frowned. "Why would she care?"

Clara leaned in conspirationally. "Well, don't tell anyone, but I think she wants you for herself."

The Doctor opened his mouth, then closed it, then repeated the action. "Why?"

"Beats me. It's definitely not the chin."

The TARDIS console powered up suddenly, causing both Clara and the Doctor to jump. They stood up at the same time, then froze, wondering how on earth they had managed to get so close together. There was barely a hand's width between them. Clara could feel the heat radiating off of the Doctor – he had always been so warm.

The Doctor looked down at Clara, wondering what to do. What if she kissed him? What would he do? Well, he didn't like her like that. Did he? Did she like him like that?

Clara laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. She gently kissed the Doctor on the chin and stepped away.

"I think I'll go and get that book now. Do you think you could take me home?"

"Of-of course! I'll be right on it."

Clara began to walk towards the inside of the TARDIS, and then stopped.

"Oh, and don't forget to turn off the floozy protons."

"Proton fusers. _Fusers_, not floozies!"

Clara grinned. "Whatever you say, Chin Boy."

* * *

**A/N: So there you are, a nice long fluffy chapter with a teensy bit more Whouffle than is strictly necessary. (I can't help it, the ship has taken over.)**

**You've probably heard the news by now, but if you haven't: Matt Smith is leaving Doctor Who! *cries into pillow* I know we all should have been expecting it (David Tennant left after four years as well), but I think one of the downfalls of a show about time travel is that the fans often get swept along and forget that time is passing. I'm glad Matt stayed for as long as he did. He was brilliant, and he'll definitely be a tough act to follow. But fret not, we still have two more episodes with him, and Jenna-Louise Coleman is staying on. I wonder how Clara will interact with the next Doctor? Who do you think will be the Twelfth Doctor? I'm secretly hoping for Benedict Cumberbatch, even if it is a long shot.**

**I have exams coming up this week, so wish me luck!**

**As always, thank you for reading and reviewing/favoriting/following!**


	7. You Wish, Chin Boy

The doors of the TARDIS burst open and Clara ran in, followed closely by the Doctor.

"So that was...interesting," Clara said, untying the sun bonnet that was on her head.

"I suppose now we know where the inspiration for _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_ came from."

"But _actual_ zombies? In Regency Hampshire?"

The Doctor grinned. "How did you know we were in Hampshire?"

Clara smiled coyly. "I've been doing my research, Chin Boy. You can't expect me to be surprised every time you take me somewhere."

"Jane seemed to surprise you," the Doctor said, immensely enjoying the sour look that appeared on Clara's face at the mention of the other woman's name. "She definitely surprised me. She made me want to 'yowza' - and trust me, I haven't wanted to yowz in a long time."

"Well," Clara said, turning away abruptly, "I think she was a bit irritating. Too...I dunno, too Jane Austen."

She let her hair out of the pin that was holding it up. The Doctor tried not to let Clara hear the grin in his voice.

"She _was_ Jane Austen, that's what made her brilliant! You know, Clara, if I didn't know any better, I might have thought you sound a _little_ jealous."

"Jealous? Me?" Clara scoffed (rather unconvincingly). "All she did was flirt with you. And ignore me. And kiss you. Why should I care?"

"She was a rather good kisser." The Doctor raised his eyebrows, struggling not to let a smile loose at the ferocious look on Clara's face as she spun around to face him. "So you don't care, Clara?"

Clara raised her eyebrows to mirror his and leaned in close to him. "You wish, Chin Boy." And she turned her back and flounced away into the TARDIS.

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, looks like someone's a teensy bit jealous! Boy, am I glad to be firmly back in the realm of fluff. And I am kind of in love with the idea of Jane Austen hitting on the Doctor.**

**I've successfully navigated my way through the treacherous waters of final exams and come out on the other side relatively unharmed. Thanks for putting up with the wait for this chapter.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing/favoriting/following!**


	8. I Love You, Chin Boy

"Clara? Clara, can you hear me?"

Clara didn't respond, and her head flopped to the side as the Doctor shook her.

The Doctor rounded on the nearest alien. "What have you done? Why isn't she responding?!"

"We injected her with a deadly poison, Time Lord. It is doubtful whether she will survive the night." The alien looked truly remorseful – and why wouldn't he be, the Doctor reminded himself, when he had only done what he had because he had been brainwashed?

The Doctor spun around, thoughts going at a million miles an hour. "What did you inject her with? What's the chemical composition?"

The alien considered for a second before going to what looked like a computer screen mounted on the wall and typing in a few commands.

"The empirical formula is C2H6O."

The Doctor considered for a moment before his eyes widened. "Ethanol?"

The alien nodded. "She has about 55 grams in her system."

The Doctor did a quick calculation in his head before sighing in relief. "She'll be fine. Can you unbind her so that I can take her back to the TARDIS?"

The Doctor staggered towards the TARDIS, supporting Clara. For every other step she took she stumbled and nearly fell. Finally, realizing they were getting nowhere, the Doctor picked Clara up bodily and strode into the TARDIS.

"Hm, detox, sleep serum..." he muttered to himself as he looked around for someplace to put Clara down. Finding none, he shrugged to himself and carried her to the medic room, where there was a bed at the far end of the room. The Doctor put Clara down on it and spun around, going to the cabinet in search of something he could use to wake Clara up.

There seemed to be no need for this, however, because he heard a giggle come from behind him. Turning around, the Doctor discovered that Clara had woken up and was now staring at him, chuckling to herself.

"Er...Clara? Are you all right?"

Clara sat up suddenly and swayed. She seemed surprised by her change in position.

"You know what?" Clara asked. The Doctor shook his head and she beckoned him towards her. She put her lips right next to the Doctor's ear and whispered, "You look a lot like that one guy."

"Which one?" The Doctor had long since realized what was happening. Clara seemed to have trouble blinking properly, she was swaying back and forth, and her speech was slurred. In short, she was drunk.

"That one with the - you know, the..." She grabbed her chin. "The chin! Chin Boy! You look like him."

"Oh. Er...good?"

Clara nodded vigorously. "Yes. I like his face. I like his chin, too. But don't tell him I said that," she whispered. "He'll tease me about it forever."

"Um...all right, I won't."

Clara's eyes narrowed. "I know who you are. You're the Doctor!" The Doctor nodded, amused and a bit nonplussed.

"Well, you have to promise me something," Clara said, leaning in close. "Promise you won't tell my Chin Boy."

"But I _am_ -" Clara put a finger on his lips.

"Promise me."

"Promise that I won't tell him _what_?" the Doctor asked, mumbling a bit so the words could get around Clara's finger.

"I have to pretend around him. All the time." She seemed almost sober, but the slur in her voice told the Doctor that she wasn't.

"But I don't want to anymore." Clara removed her finger from the Doctor's lips and folded her hands together in her lap. "So I think I won't anymore."

"What are you pretending?" the Doctor asked, curious despite himself. But Clara seemed not to have heard him.

"You know what I'll do? I'll march right up to my Chin Boy and I'll grab his face." She mimed grabbing an invisible person's face in front of her and then stopped. "No, that would probably hurt. I'll grab his collar, like this" - this time, she turned to the Doctor and grabbed the lapels on his jacket - "and I'll look at him and say, 'I love you, Chin Boy'. And then I'll kiss him, like this."

And she kissed him. And the Doctor was almost too surprised to move, so surprised that he almost forgot to close his eyes and lean into the kiss and kiss her back, the way he should have done the first time she kissed him, back in Victorian London.

Almost.

Clara pulled away a bit and looked up at him through her lashes. "Hey there, Chin Boy. I found you."

The Doctor couldn't help but smile a big, goofy smile. "Yeah. You did."

Clara crinkled her eyebrows and yawned. "I'm sleepy, Chin Boy. I want to sleep. Take me to my room."

"Yes, ma'am," said the Doctor, the smile still on his face. He picked her up again and carried her to her room. She fell asleep on the way, her head lolling against his shoulder, and the Doctor couldn't stop smiling. Not even after he realized that Clara was so drunk that she probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.

It was only after he had put her down on her bed and gone back to the console room that he realized that she had called him "her" Chin Boy.

His smile, if possible, got even bigger.

* * *

**A/N: So here are the promised torrents of Whouffle. I would have gotten to them earlier, but I wanted to establish a proper writing voice first. (And this did all start as a one-off. I never thought I'd write so much, but I'm glad I did.)**

**If you're not aware, I am a minor and so have never tasted alcohol, much less gotten drunk. But I've seen movies and TV shows (and had to act like a drunk character once for a theatre class, which I think was the most fun I've ever had), so I hope this description is close enough to the real thing. And yes, that is the actual empirical formula for ethanol, which is also commonly known as drinking alcohol.**

**Am I the only one who thinks a drunk Clara would be the most adorable thing the world has ever seen?**

**I'm sorry if you didn't like the way I wrote the kiss. To be honest, I don't know how to write romance in general, but that doesn't mean I can't try. ;)**

**As always, thank you for reading and reviewing/favoriting/following!**


	9. Not Even Close, Chin Boy

The TARDIS doors opened and the Doctor strode in, seething. Clara followed not long after, and as soon as she was inside the Doctor closed the TARDIS doors with a snap of his fingers and bent over the console, navigating them into the time vortex. He said nothing to Clara as he did so, and for once there was no spring in his step as he piloted the TARDIS.

Clara watched him for a time without saying anything. Finally, when it became obvious that the Doctor was ignoring her, she spoke up.

"What's wrong?"

The Doctor stopped walking around the console and stood with his back to her, hunched over and fiddling with a dial.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Whatever gave you that impression?"

Clara went and stood next to him and laid a hand on his arm. The Doctor's fingers stilled, but he pulled out of her grasp and turned away.

"Are you - _no_ - you're not _jealous_, are you, Doctor?"

"No, of course not," the Doctor said, and Clara could almost hear the frowny pout in his voice.

Now fighting the urge to giggle, Clara said, "Well, I suppose it shouldn't matter to you who I snog."

The Doctor's hunched shoulders seemed like they would burst the seams of his jacket as she continued.

"You know, the snog box hasn't really been living up to her name, so I had to look elsewhere."

The Doctor resisted the urge to turn around and shout, "But you snogged me in here!" He wasn't sure how Clara would react, especially since she had been drunk to the point of passing out. Which she had done, after revealing certain intimate details about her feelings for the Doctor.

His problem was how he felt in return. He thought he'd known, but then they'd met that man on that planet they'd just went to (whose demeanor and behavior had remarkably resembled Jack Harkness's). And he had kissed Clara. And she had kissed him back. For several long seconds. Almost a whole minute

The Doctor realized that while he had been thinking Clara had fallen silent. He turned around and found her staring into the distance.

"Speaking of snogging, Doctor, I seem to remember something that happened the other day...but it's so fuzzy I can hardly remember..."

Hardly daring to breathe, the Doctor listened raptly as she continued.

"What exactly happened on that planet we visited with the weird giraffe people? I remember being injected with something...and then you helped me into the TARDIS...and..."

The Doctor searched Clara's eyes as she deliberated, and finally realization dawned on her face.

"Was I drunk? Did I kiss you?"

Slowly, the Doctor nodded, waiting for her to bring up the conversation that they'd had. But she didn't seem to remember having said anything to him, concerning hidden feelings or otherwise.

Clara turned slightly pink, but grinned at the Doctor.

"Well, from what I remember, you're a much better kisser than that bloke on the planet we were just on."

The Doctor tried not to smile, he really did, but his rebellious features worked against him.

"And my chin didn't get in the way?" Not that he really cared whether it had, but he loved to see the way her eyes danced mischievously whenever one of them mentioned his chin.

"Not even close, Chin Boy." And she stepped forward, pressed a kiss to his chin, and left him to navigate the TARDIS.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry this is late! I know summer's started, but I've just got so much to do that it's difficult to find writing time. I'm taking a class online, babysitting, tutoring, and I'm in a play. I don't know when I'll be able to update, but we'll see.**

**I find this chapter slightly disappointing in comparison to the last one, but I want to stay canon, so there won't be any sweeping declarations of love or anything. I might up the rating if I decide to add some language, but I'm a terrible romance writer and this story definitely isn't going to include any smut. Just thinking about writing smut makes me feel wibbly.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing/favoriting/following!**


	10. Goodbye, Chin Boy

Clara Oswald did not break rules. It wasn't something she'd ever done as a child, and it wasn't something she had ever planned to do. So when she set rules for herself, she knew that she would absolutely never break them. Especially when it came to The Rule.

But sometimes he made it so damned _hard_.

Every time she decided to stay a night on the TARDIS and woke up in the morning, he'd be there waiting for her with breakfast and an interesting story. Whenever he picked her up from the Maitlands' house, he would have that huge, goofy, we-are-going-to-have-an-adventure-today grin, and she would have to take a deep breath and remind herself of The Rule, because her heart would flutter and she would forget (but oh, how wonderful it was to forget!) that _she could not let herself fall in love_. Not if she didn't want to get hurt.

The Rule quickly became her number one priority, and she became quite good at doing her little trick: he would be, well, _himself_, and she would pretend that he wasn't all she could think about night and day. She would pretend that they were just friends. She would pretend that she wasn't in love with him.

What made it worse was that he was married. Clara may have been the constant in the Doctor's life, she may have saved his life as many times as he had saved the universe, but she hadn't arrived in his life early enough to get him first.

Her hardest memory was when she remembered his wedding. She had been there, of course, in the Teselecta. She had watched silently as he performed the ancient Gallifreyan ceremony and broke her heart. And that wasn't the end of it. He had never noticed her. She did not think that he would, because he didn't remember her from before Victorian London and the Dalek asylum, but that didn't make it hurt any less. When she had seen how much River truly loved the Doctor, she couldn't find it in her to reveal herself and get to him first.

She had decided to implement The Rule the morning after Trenzalore. She had woken up with hundreds of lives that she had lived barraging her memory, but the only thing she could truly remember about those lives was him. The Doctor had shown courage and weakness in all his lives, and she remembered every single one, from the very start to the very end. And his flaws, more than anything else about him, were what endeared him to her. It showed that for all his Time-Lordyness, he was no more than anyone else Clara had met. He was no different from Clara herself, plagued with memories that she wished she could unremember, that she wished would unhappen. He was the only person who could truly understand what she felt and what she knew.

But she knew that she could never tell him about the memories. Because if she did open up, even that tiny bit, she wouldn't be able to control herself. Everything would come pouring out. He would know about her feelings, and about The Rule. And she would lose her Chin Boy, with his young face and age-old eyes that danced when he spoke.

She had tried to leave when it got too hard. She had tried to leave several times. But she always failed. And she knew, without ever having to tell herself, that the one thing she could never, ever bear to say, that she hoped she never would have to say, was goodbye.

_Goodbye, Chin Boy._

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry. I know you all expected so much more than a long internal monologue, but it's been a while since I've written from Clara's perspective (like properly, in her head) so I wanted to try something a little different.**

**The good news is, I now have a general plan for the next 20ish chapters, which have been inspired by this tumblr post: post/56266967253/unusual-date-ideas. So bear with me for now, and I'll update again soon!  
**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	11. Thank You, Chin Boy

"Doctor, where are we going?"

"You'll see, be patient," the Doctor said. His hands were over Clara's eyes and he was standing behind her, so he shut the TARDIS door behind them with his foot.

"Walk forward three steps." Clara did as he told her. "All right. Welcome, Clara Oswald, to the planet Lignimun."

The Doctor removed his hands from in front of Clara's eyes. She gasped as she looked around.

"We-we're in a tree!" The ground (or, actually, the _branch_) underneath their feet was brownish, covered in soft green. It was massive, almost one hundred meters across, and the only reason Clara had realized it was a branch was because the Doctor had landed the TARDIS right next to the tree's trunk. She looked up, and was surprised that the leaves on the tree were not only green, but blue, purple, red, silver, gold, and every other color imaginable. As a wind ruffled the branches, the leaves seemed to swirl and dance and changed colors rapidly.

The Doctor smiled and nodded, drinking in the sight of her wonderstruck face and sparkling eyes.

"A bloody _tall_ tree!"

"The tallest tree in the universe. It's the only organism that lives on the actual planet of Lignimun. The tree itself has several millions of organisms living in and on it."

"It's beautiful," Clara breathed as another breeze blew through the branches.

"Do you want to climb to the top?"

Clara turned to the Doctor. "What's up there?"

The Doctor shrugged. "No one really knows. There are no records of it, and in all living history no one has actually climbed all the way to the top."

Clara grinned. "What are we waiting for then?"

At the beginning of the climb they mostly found grooves in the tree's trunk that were big enough to wedge their feet and hands into, but after a while more, smaller branches started to pop up. Eventually the trunk became thinner, and Clara could see sunlight dappled with multicolored flecks on the Doctor's skin. As they neared the top, the Doctor slowed.

"Do you want to go first?" he asked, indicating the last branch until they would break the canopy of leaves.

"I'm wearing a skirt." Clara retorted, smirking slightly. The Doctor's cheeks reddened.

"Er, right." he replied, slightly sheepishly. "Well, I know you want to go first, but since you can't, how about we go together? At the same time?"

Clara nodded, and she and The Doctor both heaved themselves up on the last branch from opposite sides, breaking through the top canopy of leaves.

At first Clara had to catch her breath, both at having climbed up a tree for a good hour and because there was absolutely no place from two people to stand on the branch and she was nearly nose to nose (or if she was being realistic, nose to Chin) with the Doctor. Before she let that second train of thought go any further (_the Rule, Clara, the Rule_), she forced herself to look away from him.

The sight that met her eyes left her breathless again. They were standing in a sea of multicolored leaves that stretched for miles and disappeared into the distance. Clara turned around and saw a brilliant sunset, reflecting off of the leaves and throwing dancing bits of light everywhere.

Clara leaned slightly against the Doctor. "Wow."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes." She gave him a hug, burying her face in his warm shoulder. "Thank you, Chin Boy."

The Doctor pulled slightly back again to look into Clara's eyes. She held his green-eyed gaze for a few seconds, and then looked out at the red-gold sunset again before she could get too dazzled.

"You're welcome, Clara."

* * *

**A/N: So it's our first time out of the TARDIS. I hope you like where I've taken you. If you want more outside world scenes or if you don't, leave a review letting me know.**

**With the announcement of Peter Capaldi as the 12th Doctor, the realization (and possibly, acceptance, but I'm not too sure on that front) that Matt Smith is leaving has finally hit me. If I'm still writing this story around then, I might take it into a slight AU so that I can spend more time with the 11 and Clara in my head. But since that won't be happening for another four and a half months, I think we're safe for now.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	12. Chapter 12

The Doctor was sitting under the TARDIS console when Clara found him. She waited for him to notice her (he had extremely accurate hearing) but furrowed her brow when he didn't turn around.

"Doctor?" she asked cautiously, walking toward him slowly.

The Doctor turned around quickly, wiping at his eyes. His attempts were somewhat impeded by the round glasses (that Clara had nicknamed "the Harry Potter glasses" from when she remembered seeing them in her Victorian London life) perched on the bridge of his nose, and a tiny bit of pain pierced Clara's heart when she saw that he wasn't happy. (_No, shut up, The Rule_.)

Clara looked up at the Doctor's downcast eyes and took the glasses off. She knew whose they were. She had been there that day at the graveyard when Amy and Rory had– (but what had they done? Not died, not exactly. There wasn't really a descriptor for it. They had…left), or at least a version of her had been. She'd tried to get to the Doctor to warn him that a few of the angels were still left, but had been transported back in time herself by the same angel that took Amy and Rory and lived the rest of her days (or that particular life's days) out as a secretary for a publishing company. She'd met Amy Pond when she took over that branch of the publishing firm and had become a friend of hers through the years, though Clara had never revealed her true identity (and that life was one of the ones in which her memory had been slightly off, getting worse after she was cut off from the Doctor). She still hadn't told the Doctor about her memories of the previous lives she had lived, but there seemed to be some recognition in his eyes as he looked at her.

The Doctor felt a surge of (what was it? Love? No, it couldn't be – could it?) as he saw the strange look in Clara's eyes. Almost haunted, but with a sense of strength, as if there was something that she remembered that she was determined not to let anyone know of. It was almost like looking into a mirror. Suddenly, she reached up and hugged him, and the Doctor felt his hearts thudding harder than usual and encircled her waist with his arms, burying his nose into her collarbone. After inhaling her scent deeply, he pulled away.

"Let's go on an adventure," he said, and let the memories of the graveyard slip away again.

"All right, Chin Boy, but eyes front this time."

"My eyes are always front!" the Doctor insisted, starting to climb up the stairs to the console.

"Mine aren't." The Doctor turned around to find Clara staring (quite openly) at his rear.

"Stop it!"

"No."

The Doctor turned around and continued up the stairs, trying not to feel too pleased with himself.

* * *

**A/N: So I meant to make them go on an adventure today, but I made the mistake of listening to indie music while I write. It always makes me feel rather melancholy, so I'll listen to something lighter when I write the next chapter.**

**I quite like the idea of Clara being able to remember her past lives, and I hope Moffat wrote her having to deal with it into the 50****th**** Anniversary because it would be interesting to see how she would go about it. I think at this point in my story she's basically trying to suppress it, but whenever something seriously triggers a memory (like Amy's glasses) she gets completely engulfed by it for a few seconds.**

**I rewatched "The Snowmen" last night, and I forgot how much I loved the banter in that episode, especially the lines that I creatively incorporated (read: stole) into this chapter. I hope that light ending made up for the inner monologue/melancholy of this chapter. I promise (like really, actually promise, like a real, true promise thing – you can tell it's 2:00 in the morning, can't you?) to write something light and bantery for next time.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	13. You Smell Nice, Chin Boy

She had collapsed out of exhaustion once, when they had been running. She had forgotten to eat lunch (the kids had kept her extra busy that day), and had decided that it wouldn't matter, not really, because the Doctor had promised her something quieter this week. He had not, of course, kept his word, and after a day and a half stuck on some obscure planet looking for the TARDIS without any source of edible food Clara had found her legs incomprehensibly slowing down and her arms refusing to obey and push her body off the ground while she and the Doctor were being chased by a strange moving darkness in the night. She didn't remember much afterwards, but she did remember the smell and heat of his neck and the comforting rub of his collar against her cheek. She had woken up in the TARDIS to his green eyes inches from hers, and before she had the chance to think he had encircled her with his arms and her nose was buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the same reassuring, familiar scent that had told her she was safe in the brief snatches of consciousness she could recall. He had been very protective and cautious around her afterwards, always making sure she had eaten enough and that she wasn't too tired before whisking her off to their next adventure.

* * *

He had been injured once, and badly so. He had jumped in front of someone to save them and a poisoned blade had caught his shoulder, making him crumple to the ground with his legs sticking out at awkward angles. The others who had been with them up to that point had told her to leave him, that the poison had no antidote, but she had absolutely refused. She had sonicked him with his screwdriver, pointing and thinking as he had instructed her before, and had decided that he wasn't too badly damaged to be moved. She'd had to drag him unceremoniously through the underground piping of the city, hiding whenever she thought she heard suspicious sounds and hurrying along as fast as she could under the circumstances. When her breathing became too labored, she had rested with his head on her shoulder and his scent wafting through her head, and had noticed that her fingers had strayed up to stroke and bury themselves in his hair and the overwhelming urge to kiss his forehead had almost overtaken her more times than she knew she could allow herself. When she had finally gotten to the TARDIS, the machine had sensed her urgency and had whipped up an antidote automatically, leaving her nothing to do after she poured it into his mouth than sit next to him on his bed and wait for him to wake up. She hadn't realized how tired she'd been until she had woken up an hour later with her head nestled on the Doctor's shoulder, her nose nuzzled into his neck. She had gotten up immediately and moved as far away from the Doctor as possible while still having him within arm's length, but had been unable to get the smell of his neck out of her head. When he had finally woken up, she had tackled him in a hug and then left rather abruptly when she realized how awkward it was for her to be half lying on top of him, hugging him within an inch of his life, while in his bed. It also hadn't helped that now her clothes smelled like him, and she hadn't been able change out of them until she went home.

* * *

She was unable to sleep once, and she found herself sleeping at home less and less as time went on. Her bed at the Maitlands' house never felt right, it was always too cold or too warm. Or maybe it had something to do with the way the nighttime neighbourhood sounds couldn't calm her the way the humming of the TARDIS did or how her pillow in the TARDIS inexplicably smelled just like the Doctor's neck (for how was she to know that he slept in her bed on nights she wasn't there because he missed her?). She would burrow her nose into the pillow and imagine that it was actually him there with her - but only when her mind was too tired to remind her of the Rule. And for a minute or two, enveloped in his scent, she would forget.

* * *

He had given her a piggyback ride once, because she had complained about being too tired while they were climbing up a mountain, and she hadn't been able to stop herself from occasionally leaning forward and sniffing his neck. When he had put her down, he seemed amused, and when she asked him why he replied with a question about why she had been so fascinated with the smell of his neck.

The only reply she could think of was, "Well, you smell nice, Chin Boy."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter is written slightly differently (and is much longer) than usual. I was inspired at 1:30 in the morning by this post: (**** . /9075f862fea0e15f8bd126123821444b/tumblr_mqpzexZn3 71qcnlefo1_ ****). I thought this was different enough to constitute it having its own separate story, but decided against it because I'm lazy and it's **_**my**_** fanfic, I get to make the rules (*cue evil laugh*).**

**I know I haven't written much lately, but it's my junior year of high school and between 7 AP classes, 4 after-school clubs, dance classes every Friday, and volunteering at the hospital every Saturday, I have less than no time to write. Whenever I do manage to churn a chapter out I'll update as soon as I possibly can.**

**If you could take a couple of minutes and leave a review, my day would totally be made. ****Thanks for reading!**


	14. Shut Up, Chin Boy

Clara hammered on the TARDIS door.

"That's not going to help you much, you know, seeing as I'm outside."

She spun around and glared at the Doctor, then said in a tight voice, "Open the bloody door."

"I will not. At least, not until you tell me why you're mad at me." He wasn't really sure that he wanted to know, but it was too late to take it back now.

Clara's normally friendly brown eyes had turned darker, and he could hardly stand the wounded, closed off look they held.

"You killed him. You killed that kid that was infected."

"Yeah, and I saved your life at the same time as well."

"You could have helped him! You could have done anything else but that!"

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair. "I regret doing it, of course I do, but that disease turns people mad. He was about to bite you, and then you would've gotten-"

"Doctor, I don't _care_ what would have happened to me! Did you see the look on his poor mother's face?!"

"YES, CLARA, I DID!" the Doctor bellowed. Clara still looked defiant. "And it's not that I'm not sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He had lowered his eyes, but now he looked up and matched her furious gaze. "But I couldn't have done anything for him. And I couldn't - couldn't lose - you."

"That's really bloody selfish of you, then! Did you ever think of what you put his mother through? She was standing _right there_, for God's sake! You could at least have knocked him out or something!"

"There was no _time_! And - I -" He stopped, unsure of how to continue. Clara coldly raised her eyebrow. "I'm sorry. You're right. I was just caught up in the moment. But I won't say what I did was wrong. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

"I already told you, Doctor, you need to care about something more than me!" She was yelling at him again. Why was he always getting yelled at? "If you don't, what's even the point of going to all these worlds, saving all these people?" Damn it all, she knew him too well. "That was a moment of weakness," she hissed, leaning forward, "and next time I'll thank you to just let me die instead of doing something cruel and - and - _inhumane_ like that!"

He wasn't sure what made him do it. Maybe it was that she had been able to understand him so well without even having experienced anything he had. Maybe it was that he hated that she thought he would just let her die. Or maybe it was that she had so much fire in her eyes in that moment that he couldn't help himself.

He growled a curse in Gallifreyan (that when translated into English may or may not have started with the letter F), grabbed her face, and crashed his lips into hers, backing her against the TARDIS doors as he did so.

At first Clara was stoic, but just as the Doctor realized that he could feel every contour of her body against his she melted into him, brushing her fingertips against the hairs at the nape of his neck and giving him goosebumps. He did not know how long they had been kissing - surely it didn't take quite that long for both of them to get flushed and light-headed, or for her fingers to bury themselves into his hair, or - good lord, how had his tongue slipped into her mouth?

Finally, they pulled away from each other, gasping for air. "I - I -" The Doctor tried to articulate some semblance of rational thought.

"Oh, shut up, Chin Boy," Clara snapped, but he could see the broad grin stretching across her face. "Just don't be too much of a knight with a shining screwdriver, okay? People don't always have to get hurt."

"Sometimes you are especially annoying," he replied, but he knew that wasn't true at all, and that she knew it too.

"As I should be, Chin Boy. Now open the bloody door before I make you!" Her eyes went wide as she realized the connotation of her words, and she tried desperately to backtrack, but the Doctor just smiled, murmured, "Yes, ma'am," and reached around her to open the TARDIS door.

Clara had no idea what made her do it - it was probably that he was so close and she could smell the scent coming off his neck, and that the events of the last few minutes had driven the Rule to the furthest reaches of her mind - but she stood on her tiptoes and shyly pressed her lips to his again, thinking he would pull away.

He didn't.

* * *

**A/N: Is that enough to imply sex? Do I need to up the rating? Am I just being paranoid? (The rational bit of my mind is telling me that I am. All right then.)**

**For anyone who wants to know if they did the deed or not, I've no idea. Sure, if that's what you want, but it'll just have to be up to your imagination because I can't write smut.**

**Leave a review, it only takes a minute! I'd love to hear your feedback!**


End file.
